In February 03, I found out I was pregnant. My hubby was over the moon, but I had reservations. I feel badly saying that, but it's how I felt. Slowly, I began getting excited. I had some friends who thought "4 kids is too many, just abort". Yeah, I didn't even entertain that thought!
At 6 weeks, I had cramping so a doctor at the air force hospital did an ultrasound . A little fish with a flicker. Awesome! She told me she couldn't guaruntee I wouldn't miscarry. I thought, there's a heartbeat, I'm good.
At 11weeks, I went in for a regular prenatal appointment. They were suppose to do the heartbeat and everything. The nurse puts the doppler to my belly and nothing. In my head, I'm thinking she doesn't know what she's doing. The doctor goes to try and he gets nothing as well. At the moment, I just began crying. I was by myself in this room. The doctor grabbed a portable ultrasound machine and put the wand to my belly. There it was, a tiny little person with arms and legs. Unfortunately, the little person no longer had a heartbeat. I ask for a picture. He let me know I could get myself together and meet him in his office. My husband was sitting in his office and the doctor let me know he was going to schedule a D&C. Having the pro-life stance I did, I equated D&C's with people who were volunteering to abort their babies. I didn't want to abort my baby.
Two later, I returned to confirm the baby's death. No growth, no heartbeat, it was over. The doctor let me know that, had I been an earlier gestational age, he could just induce the miscarriage, but I was too far along and it was risky. Being the difficult person I am, I told him I wanted to do that because I wanted to give birth to my baby. He called in a script for Cytotec, had me go down to the pharmacy to get it, and bring it back up to him. Of course, on my way down the elevator, it stopped as a nurse wheeled a brand new mother and baby down to an eager spouse. Talk about a knife in my heart.
About 2:30, the cytotec is inserted and I'm sent home. A little time passes and I start feeling crampy. I'm starting to bleed some. Of course, I had to drive to go get my husband from the base and by the time I get there, the pain is horrible, so he drives home. I continue "laboring" in our bathroom and bedroom. I think it was about 7/7:30pm when I felt the pop of the sac. Talk about an odd sensation. Two hours later, I had the baby. Perfectly formed with a mouth, tongue, arms, legs, hands, feet. A tiny dead baby. The doctor had given me a specimen cup to place the baby in. The deal was, I wanted testing to find out what the baby was gender wise and why it died. The next morning, I began passing chunks of placenta. That's not usually a good thing. I began losing blood. So, when I went in to the doctor he admitted me. One nurse tried taking my blood pressure and was like "No, this isn't right". HE tries again and runs into the hall. Several nurses try and my blood pressure is not changing. One nurse told me I should be dead with a blood pressure that low. I was taken to the ICU to await my emergency d&c as they were having trouble finding blood for me. I don't remember anything after that.
I woke up to people trying to wake me up after the surgery. I couldn't come out of the anesthesia. When I did finally come out of it, my husband and friend were sitting in my room.
Testing on the baby was inconclusive and they never even tested for gender. I tried finding out what happened to the baby, but those efforts failed. Does it haunt me? Sure does. But I got to hold and see my baby. I needed that. I just hope that these days, there are better resources for women who lose babies than there were for me down there.
Friday, December 9, 2011
My Birth Stories- Miscarriage #2
In February 03, I found out I was pregnant. My hubby was over the moon, but I had reservations. I feel badly saying that, but it's how I felt. Slowly, I began getting excited. I had some friends who thought "4 kids is too many, just abort". Yeah, I didn't even entertain that thought!
At 6 weeks, I had cramping so a doctor at the air force hospital did an ultrasound . A little fish with a flicker. Awesome! She told me she couldn't guaruntee I wouldn't miscarry. I thought, there's a heartbeat, I'm good.
At 11weeks, I went in for a regular prenatal appointment. They were suppose to do the heartbeat and everything. The nurse puts the doppler to my belly and nothing. In my head, I'm thinking she doesn't know what she's doing. The doctor goes to try and he gets nothing as well. At the moment, I just began crying. I was by myself in this room. The doctor grabbed a portable ultrasound machine and put the wand to my belly. There it was, a tiny little person with arms and legs. Unfortunately, the little person no longer had a heartbeat. I ask for a picture. He let me know I could get myself together and meet him in his office. My husband was sitting in his office and the doctor let me know he was going to schedule a D&C. Having the pro-life stance I did, I equated D&C's with people who were volunteering to abort their babies. I didn't want to abort my baby.
Two later, I returned to confirm the baby's death. No growth, no heartbeat, it was over. The doctor let me know that, had I been an earlier gestational age, he could just induce the miscarriage, but I was too far along and it was risky. Being the difficult person I am, I told him I wanted to do that because I wanted to give birth to my baby. He called in a script for Cytotec, had me go down to the pharmacy to get it, and bring it back up to him. Of course, on my way down the elevator, it stopped as a nurse wheeled a brand new mother and baby down to an eager spouse. Talk about a knife in my heart.
About 2:30, the cytotec is inserted and I'm sent home. A little time passes and I start feeling crampy. I'm starting to bleed some. Of course, I had to drive to go get my husband from the base and by the time I get there, the pain is horrible, so he drives home. I continue "laboring" in our bathroom and bedroom. I think it was about 7/7:30pm when I felt the pop of the sac. Talk about an odd sensation. Two hours later, I had the baby. Perfectly formed with a mouth, tongue, arms, legs, hands, feet. A tiny dead baby. The doctor had given me a specimen cup to place the baby in. The deal was, I wanted testing to find out what the baby was gender wise and why it died. The next morning, I began passing chunks of placenta. That's not usually a good thing. I began losing blood. So, when I went in to the doctor he admitted me. One nurse tried taking my blood pressure and was like "No, this isn't right". HE tries again and runs into the hall. Several nurses try and my blood pressure is not changing. One nurse told me I should be dead with a blood pressure that low. I was taken to the ICU to await my emergency d&c as they were having trouble finding blood for me. I don't remember anything after that.
I woke up to people trying to wake me up after the surgery. I couldn't come out of the anesthesia. When I did finally come out of it, my husband and friend were sitting in my room.
Testing on the baby was inconclusive and they never even tested for gender. I tried finding out what happened to the baby, but those efforts failed. Does it haunt me? Sure does. But I got to hold and see my baby. I needed that. I just hope that these days, there are better resources for women who lose babies than there were for me down there.
At 6 weeks, I had cramping so a doctor at the air force hospital did an ultrasound . A little fish with a flicker. Awesome! She told me she couldn't guaruntee I wouldn't miscarry. I thought, there's a heartbeat, I'm good.
At 11weeks, I went in for a regular prenatal appointment. They were suppose to do the heartbeat and everything. The nurse puts the doppler to my belly and nothing. In my head, I'm thinking she doesn't know what she's doing. The doctor goes to try and he gets nothing as well. At the moment, I just began crying. I was by myself in this room. The doctor grabbed a portable ultrasound machine and put the wand to my belly. There it was, a tiny little person with arms and legs. Unfortunately, the little person no longer had a heartbeat. I ask for a picture. He let me know I could get myself together and meet him in his office. My husband was sitting in his office and the doctor let me know he was going to schedule a D&C. Having the pro-life stance I did, I equated D&C's with people who were volunteering to abort their babies. I didn't want to abort my baby.
Two later, I returned to confirm the baby's death. No growth, no heartbeat, it was over. The doctor let me know that, had I been an earlier gestational age, he could just induce the miscarriage, but I was too far along and it was risky. Being the difficult person I am, I told him I wanted to do that because I wanted to give birth to my baby. He called in a script for Cytotec, had me go down to the pharmacy to get it, and bring it back up to him. Of course, on my way down the elevator, it stopped as a nurse wheeled a brand new mother and baby down to an eager spouse. Talk about a knife in my heart.
About 2:30, the cytotec is inserted and I'm sent home. A little time passes and I start feeling crampy. I'm starting to bleed some. Of course, I had to drive to go get my husband from the base and by the time I get there, the pain is horrible, so he drives home. I continue "laboring" in our bathroom and bedroom. I think it was about 7/7:30pm when I felt the pop of the sac. Talk about an odd sensation. Two hours later, I had the baby. Perfectly formed with a mouth, tongue, arms, legs, hands, feet. A tiny dead baby. The doctor had given me a specimen cup to place the baby in. The deal was, I wanted testing to find out what the baby was gender wise and why it died. The next morning, I began passing chunks of placenta. That's not usually a good thing. I began losing blood. So, when I went in to the doctor he admitted me. One nurse tried taking my blood pressure and was like "No, this isn't right". HE tries again and runs into the hall. Several nurses try and my blood pressure is not changing. One nurse told me I should be dead with a blood pressure that low. I was taken to the ICU to await my emergency d&c as they were having trouble finding blood for me. I don't remember anything after that.
I woke up to people trying to wake me up after the surgery. I couldn't come out of the anesthesia. When I did finally come out of it, my husband and friend were sitting in my room.
Testing on the baby was inconclusive and they never even tested for gender. I tried finding out what happened to the baby, but those efforts failed. Does it haunt me? Sure does. But I got to hold and see my baby. I needed that. I just hope that these days, there are better resources for women who lose babies than there were for me down there.
Friday, December 2, 2011
My Birth Stories- Child #3
My husband enlisted in the military in February 2001 after a lay-off. We decided no more children, esp because we were unsure as to how things would go in the military. Turns out saying it doesn't prevent it from happening!
I had noticed I was a tad tired and just felt off. My friend encouraged me to test and that sucker popped right up. We put the test in a gift bag and took it with us to lunch. All the guys were wanting to know what was in the bag so he looked and informed them that we were pregnant. I went to the medical clinic on base and had a test done. Their test took a bit to come up positive so they did bloodwork. Then I went to the air force base to get my official test and bloodwork. That was all in the first half of july.
At the end of august, I had to go to the clinic where the doctor told me my tests were negative and chances are I was having a missed miscarriage. Talk about flipping out. We immediately went to the air force hospital so I could get looked at. Their stuff said I was still pregnant. I wanted to throttle that navy doctor for putting me through so much crap!! That was not the last run in I would have with him. In october, I began to have issues with my heart racing and getting light headed. I even passed out. Now, I had taken ephedrine to lose weight from the time my husband enlisted until we moved down there in May. The doctors found that just me standing up would cause my heart to race at over 200bpm, so I spent time hooked up to EKG's. It was great. The one day that I was taken by ambulance from the medical clinic to the air force hospital, this doctor tried finding my son's heartbeat and got nothing, so he figured my son was dead. I had ONE person that could draw my blood or give me an IV there and they didn't call him into the room to help get ready for the transport. I was like a pincushion experiment! That was the last dealing I had with that clinic for myself.
Luckily my heart calmed down and the pregnancy went smooth. My doctors told me to stop working at 35 weeks. I was due March 17th, the day before two family birthdays and after two others. I went into labor 9 days early after working in my flower beds all morning. I was called into work that day, but nobody told me what. Turns out the girls arranged a surprise baby shower. I told them, I would probably have my son that weekend. I contracted all day, stopped at night, and didn't start until the next day about noon. Contractions were every 6 minutes. I was losing plug too (gotta love reading that, lol). I called the hospital and they told me I could either come in and get checked or just wait, but they thought I was coming right in.
That evening, we had tickets for the circus. So, while I was in labor, we went to the circus. It really wasn't too bad to be honest. I was still hanging out at the 6 minute mark. After the circus, we just went for a drive and then went home. Around 9pm, they began getting closer, so I had my husband take our kids to the sitters house. Living on base, she lived right by us, so he walked them there and came home. We set out about 10:30 for the hospital. The hospital was a half hour away and I had to stop to get sick. When we got there and got checked, I was found to be 8cm. Yippee!! Now, the care did suck. Instead of being helped to the bathroom, I was given a bedpan. Which, served them right because when I tried to go, my water broke and shot out! I got distance, lol!! I began pushing and begged to be cut because it felt like I was going to tear badly. They refused to cut me, so I did tear (Imagine one labia literally hanging by a piece of skin). That was great. I did not get numbed to do the repair and even thinking about it now, makes the girly bits cringe. I did deliver flat on my back, like flat flat, not semi reclined, but flat. But at 12:01 am, on my stepgrandfather's birthday, I delivered my middle son. Sucky hospital experience, but awesome baby!
I did develop some PPD as I lost my grandmother from cancer right after his birth. She only got to see his picture, never him, but Grandpa said she smiled. I love my Grandmother and losing her sent me into the worst tailspin. I was diagnosed with depression when my son was 9 months old.
I had noticed I was a tad tired and just felt off. My friend encouraged me to test and that sucker popped right up. We put the test in a gift bag and took it with us to lunch. All the guys were wanting to know what was in the bag so he looked and informed them that we were pregnant. I went to the medical clinic on base and had a test done. Their test took a bit to come up positive so they did bloodwork. Then I went to the air force base to get my official test and bloodwork. That was all in the first half of july.
At the end of august, I had to go to the clinic where the doctor told me my tests were negative and chances are I was having a missed miscarriage. Talk about flipping out. We immediately went to the air force hospital so I could get looked at. Their stuff said I was still pregnant. I wanted to throttle that navy doctor for putting me through so much crap!! That was not the last run in I would have with him. In october, I began to have issues with my heart racing and getting light headed. I even passed out. Now, I had taken ephedrine to lose weight from the time my husband enlisted until we moved down there in May. The doctors found that just me standing up would cause my heart to race at over 200bpm, so I spent time hooked up to EKG's. It was great. The one day that I was taken by ambulance from the medical clinic to the air force hospital, this doctor tried finding my son's heartbeat and got nothing, so he figured my son was dead. I had ONE person that could draw my blood or give me an IV there and they didn't call him into the room to help get ready for the transport. I was like a pincushion experiment! That was the last dealing I had with that clinic for myself.
Luckily my heart calmed down and the pregnancy went smooth. My doctors told me to stop working at 35 weeks. I was due March 17th, the day before two family birthdays and after two others. I went into labor 9 days early after working in my flower beds all morning. I was called into work that day, but nobody told me what. Turns out the girls arranged a surprise baby shower. I told them, I would probably have my son that weekend. I contracted all day, stopped at night, and didn't start until the next day about noon. Contractions were every 6 minutes. I was losing plug too (gotta love reading that, lol). I called the hospital and they told me I could either come in and get checked or just wait, but they thought I was coming right in.
That evening, we had tickets for the circus. So, while I was in labor, we went to the circus. It really wasn't too bad to be honest. I was still hanging out at the 6 minute mark. After the circus, we just went for a drive and then went home. Around 9pm, they began getting closer, so I had my husband take our kids to the sitters house. Living on base, she lived right by us, so he walked them there and came home. We set out about 10:30 for the hospital. The hospital was a half hour away and I had to stop to get sick. When we got there and got checked, I was found to be 8cm. Yippee!! Now, the care did suck. Instead of being helped to the bathroom, I was given a bedpan. Which, served them right because when I tried to go, my water broke and shot out! I got distance, lol!! I began pushing and begged to be cut because it felt like I was going to tear badly. They refused to cut me, so I did tear (Imagine one labia literally hanging by a piece of skin). That was great. I did not get numbed to do the repair and even thinking about it now, makes the girly bits cringe. I did deliver flat on my back, like flat flat, not semi reclined, but flat. But at 12:01 am, on my stepgrandfather's birthday, I delivered my middle son. Sucky hospital experience, but awesome baby!
I did develop some PPD as I lost my grandmother from cancer right after his birth. She only got to see his picture, never him, but Grandpa said she smiled. I love my Grandmother and losing her sent me into the worst tailspin. I was diagnosed with depression when my son was 9 months old.
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